“How’s this for a plan,” he said. “You go get dressed while I rearrange a few things, and I’ll meet you at your suite in twenty minutes. I know a great breakfast place right on the river that makes the best egg and bacon rolls in all of Wenderall, so we’ll grab something to eat, and then —” He grinned. “Well, then you’ll see.”
“You’re being very mysterious,” Kiva told him.
His grin widened. “You’re one to talk.”
Kiva had no defense to that, so she rolled her eyes and pushed away from him, walking toward the door. She’d just opened it and was about to step through when Jaren called her name, making her pause and turn back to him.
“Best sleep I’ve ever had,” he said quietly.
Kiva swallowed at the look that had returned to his eyes. She wanted to lie, but what came out was the absolute, undeniable truth. “Me too.”
Jaren was right about the egg and bacon rolls. One bite and Kiva nearly inhaled the rest, having eaten so little the previous day. The taste also helped wash away the bitterness of Delora’s potion, which Kiva had downed the moment she’d returned to her room. With only one mouthful now left in the vial, she would have to find her way back to her grandmother tomorrow as agreed, but that, she decided, was something she could worry about later.
“I told you,” Jaren said as they meandered along the river, noting how quickly she finished her roll and graciously handing over what remained of his.
Kiva thought about objecting, but she didn’t have the willpower — like most things when it came to Jaren. It was only after she was done and licking her fingers that both rolls reached her stomach, making her regret her poor life choices.
“You’re looking a bit uncomfortable there,” Jaren said, lips twitching as he watched her holding her belly and moaning. “Do you think you can walk up the hill, or should I carry you?”
He gestured toward a familiar road, one Kiva had traveled numerous times since arriving in the city.
“You’re taking me to Silverthorn?” she asked, tilting her head in puzzlement. The amulet shifted around her neck, a reminder that it was resting beneath her sweater, protecting her from harm. “I’m not that unwell. I just ate too much.”
Jaren chuckled and wound an arm around her waist, leading her off the crowded River Road and onto the quieter side street toward the academy. “We’re not going there for you.”
Alarm filled Kiva. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he answered quickly. “We’re not going there for me, either.” He paused. “Well, I guess we kind of are. But not in a way that —” He broke off. “Never mind. You’ll see when we get there.”
Her curiosity piqued, Kiva followed him up the hill, expecting to walk right through the front gates. But before they reached the campus, Jaren guided her between two narrow apartment buildings, moving deeper into the shadows until he was certain they were out of sight.
“This isn’t creepy at all,” Kiva stated, looking around.
“If you think this is bad, never accept Caldon’s offer for a night out on the town,” Jaren returned, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing two small golden objects. “Especially if he mentions chasing the spirits of our ancestors or hunting the ghosts of the gods.”
Kiva blinked for a long moment, before slowly saying, “There’s so much there that I don’t even know what to ask.”
Jaren chuckled. “It’s a story that can wait for our next family night.” He held out one of the golden items. “Here.”
Kiva took it, turning it over in her hands. An uneasy feeling hit her at the sight of the simple but elegant mask, but this one wasn’t silver and there were no coiled serpents, so she swallowed her trepidation and asked, “What’s this for?”
Jaren peeled back his mask and affixed it to his face. “For what we’re about to do, I have to be Prince Deverick.” He pointed to his masked features, a self-conscious look coming over him as he indicated what she held and added, “If you don’t mind, I think you should wear one, too.”
Kiva frowned. “But I’m not royal. No one cares who I am.”
The reason for his unexpected look became clear when he said, “Humor me. I’m . . . thinking ahead.”
The breath left Kiva at his implication, Tipp’s family portrait flitting across her mind, the image of her and Jaren holding hands and wearing crowns impossible to forget.